Jilted

In a Manner of Speaking

In a manner of speaking, I just want to say

That I could never forget the way

You told me everything, by saying nothing

In a manner of speaking

I don’t understand how love in silence becomes reprimand

But the way that I feel about you is beyond words

In a manner of speaking

Semantics won’t do

In this life that we live we only make do

And the way that we fell might have to be sacrificed

Nouvelle Vague – In a Manner of Speaking

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The church looked exactly the same. Panes of stained glass cast brilliant colored shadows across the marble floor of St. Gregory’s. It was the amazing architecture that made her fall in love with the church in the first place. Classic pillars lined the length of the church, and at the very front sat a glorious mural painted in fresco.

She hadn’t been back here since that day. She hadn’t even stepped foot in a church since that day. The quiet, contemplative atmosphere of the church soothed her tumultuous insides for a second, but the waves of raw emotion were back in an instant.

It was three in the afternoon, so there weren’t many people in the church. Just a few people dispersed throughout the pews, kneeling and praying for salvation, hope, and forgiveness.

It was all three that brought Geviana back to the place.

This was the church where she and Kyle were originally to be married.

She left Ridgel Towers in an absolute haze. As soon as she left the office, she ignored the flabbergasted Ashley, who babbled about hearing the yelling coming from Christopher’s office.

Alex tried to stop her, but she shoved past him. It wasn’t until she reached the glass elevators that she left herself collapse to the floor. Yet she still didn’t cry.

She had pulled her knees up to her chest and buried her head in her knees, willing herself not to cry until the moment was right. It was so hard, but she did it. No harder than the first time it happened. No harder than the times after that.

She learned to swallow her tears, until there was a dam nearly bursting insider her.

When she finally came to the first floor, her legs trembled as she pulled herself to her feet. She had no idea what she looked like, but she was sure she must have looked terrible, when people came up to her to ask if she needed a medic.

She flippantly shook her head and left the building. For what felt like hours, she wandered around the city, her fingers brushing the brick of ever building. She’d tap the parking meters, she’d cross the street with the New York crowd. Anything mindless to keep herself from hurting.

Then, it started to rain. Fat drops of rain that soaked through her thing sweater and clung to her skin, chilling her to the bone. Looking morosely at the gray sky, a pant went through her. His eyes were the color of the sky right now. Stormy, swirling gray clouds mixed with a darkening sky.

She was soaked, and it was only getting worse. Sheets of rain were coming down now, and her mind barely registered that maybe she should seek shelter.

She stopped in front of a building, and she almost laughed out loud. It was St. Gregory’s. The irony of it all. Everything came full circle. Wordlessly, she entered the church.